Chapter 8Emery
If Emery hurried, she could still meet up with her mom and forget all this nonsense. She took the exit toward St. Paul’s, but just before the traffic circle Emery made a right into the parking lot for the German bakery that had been there forever. Her mom loved their almond croissants. Emery could get one as a peace offering for not spending enough time with her. She’d been in such a hurry to leave the house she’d skipped breakfast that morning, and her stomach growled. Maybe she’d get something for herself, too.
Damn it! There wasn’t an empty space to be found. This close to Christmas, it wasn’t surprising that the downtown area was crowded with shoppers. It was probably just as well. They had a million cookies at home anyway and she’d forget her hunger once she got busy.
